


chant the same old

by crucifymethehorizon



Category: Bring Me The Horizon, Pierce the Veil, Poppy - Fandom, Sleeping With Sirens, You Me At Six
Genre: Cult AU, M/M, My first work lol, SWS, bmth, or much fransykes, poppy (entertainer), ptv - Freeform, sorry there’s no kellic, ymas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucifymethehorizon/pseuds/crucifymethehorizon
Summary: An underground rave scene and an underground cult - what sort of overlap could there possibly be? And what could go wrong? Vic Fuentes is soon to find out as an acid trip thrusts him into a world of fear and romance, ruled by an iron fist of power and drugs. MANTRA.Uploads will be very scattered.
Relationships: Josh Franceschi/Oliver Sykes, Kellin Quinn/Jaime Preciado, Oliver Sykes/Vic Fuentes, Vic Fuentes/Oliver Sykes
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

A group of three men walked down a dark street. They varied in height, two mildly short and one towering in comparison. The shortest man's brown hair flowed from beneath a maroon beanie, spilling onto the shoulders of his gray hoodie, which covered a black graphic tee tucked into dark wash denim jeans. His scuffed red Converse, whose laces dragged, paled in comparison to the middle man's brand new black on black Sk8-Hi Vans. He wore blue jeans and a black V-neck short sleeved shirt, inappropriate for the weather. His black shirt matched his black wavy hair and the tallest man's windbreaker. The tallest wore green cargo shorts and black Reeboks with straps instead of laces. His hair was black and spiky.

Vic sharply inhaled the chilly night air as he watched his two friends work together to un-stick the manhole cover. While Jaime was strong, he needed a little help from Kellin to pick up and move the cover without possibly hurting himself. From under the dull groaning of the metal manhole cover and the grunts of the two other men, Vic could hear the throbbing bass of music coming from under the deserted street. He cracked a grin when the manhole cover finally allowed the others to pull it up and move it, gently setting it just aside the hole so Jaime could reach back up and pull it back into place.

"You guys sure this is the right one?" Kellin asked, glancing at Vic for an answer.

"Yeah, definitely," Vic replied as he crouched beside the hole, "I can already hear the music."

Kellin cocked his head, placed his hands on the pavement, and leaned forward to press his ear against the ground. Meanwhile, Vic dangled one leg into the hole and searched with his foot for the first rung of the ladder Jaime had promised would be there. The spiky-haired man watched, smiling as he heard rubber connect with metal.

"Told ya," he said, kneeling beside Vic, who busied himself by putting his other foot on the ladder rung. "Yeah, yeah," the shortest man snipped back, scooting forward as he began his descent. One, two, three rungs down and Vic turned to face Jaime, who leaned forward in case Vic were to fall. The shortest placed one hand on the ladder's railing and the other on the edge of the hole, gripping the slick metal tightly.

"It's a little wet, be careful," he warned the other two. He kept steadily climbing down until his head finally dipped below the street and he was forced to look up at his friends. Kellin peered down at him and even in the dark Vic could tell his eyes were wide. It wasn't his first time going to an underground rave, but he was still a little worried about Vic, considering he was the only one out of the three who had never been before. Jaime looked at Kellin.

"After you, sir," he offered politely. Kellin kicked the first rung of the ladder and quickly placed the other foot on the rung below. He was fast to join Vic, who was slow in comparison. The two climbed down until Jaime had enough room to follow. He clambered like a spider monkey down the ladder, clearly excited and restless, and he grunted loudly as he pulled the manhole cover back over the hole in the street. Vic, who had been focused on climbing, gasped as the group was plunged into darkness.

"Scared?" Vic heard Jaime's voice from somewhere above him. He squinted up into the darkness trying to make out anything, anyone. Suddenly, a bright beam of light shone directly into his eyes, making him reflexively let go of the railing with one hand to shield his face from the light. "Dude!" He exclaimed, scowling. "If I'd've let go of the ladder I woulda fallen and then you'd be so sad that I fell you'd never forgive yourself!" To that, Jaime laughed. "I don't underestimate you, Vic! I know you're too smart to let go of a ladder, the only thing holding you back from plunging to your death."

Vic shuddered. "Way to make me feel safe," he grumbled. "Hey," Kellin interrupted, "do you guys wanna make it before the rave ends or do you wanna stay here on this ladder and argue? My hands are cold and wet and I really wanna party!"

"Fine, fine, come on!" Jaime complained good-naturedly. Vic rolled his eyes and cracked a smile as he continued his descent, the two other men following close behind.

He couldn't lie, he felt relieved when his feet hit solid ground. Well, as solid as pulsing ground can be. The music was already pounding against his eardrums despite being a tunnel away. From afar, he saw strobe lights in a rainbow of colors flashing. It reminded him of a movie.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Kellin pushing him forward. "Come on!" The black haired man groaned, walking forward and forcing Vic to walk with him. Vic started walking and Kellin let his hand fall back to his side. Jaime clicked off the flashlight and once again things were dark, but the literal light at the end of the tunnel guided them towards their destination.

"Do you have the stuff?" Kellin asked Jaime. "The acid? Duh, of course! Would never go to a rave without it. You guys wanna take it before we get in or after?" The three stopped walking and turned to face each other as Jaime dug in the pocket of his cargos for the little baggie. He procured what looked like a thin strip of paper, like a pH testing strip for a fish tank, out of the bag and began tearing it into smaller pieces. Two tears later and he had divided it almost perfectly evenly among the three. Handing Kellin, then Vic, their acid, he grinned, barely illuminated by the strobe lights. They all stuck their tongues out and almost in unison placed their drugs on the tips. Vic was the first to put his tongue back in his mouth, watching the other men revel in the hope for the coming high. They began to walk back towards the entrance of the rave that would change all of them forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic meets a girl.

Colors and light swirled around Vic's head as he let himself become perfectly absorbed by the thrumming bass of the electronic music. He felt like his eyelids were gluey and sticky and he didn't know where his hands were. The music surrounding him seemed to flow from each hole of the subwoofers in ribbons, tiny rivulets of color streaming around him. He felt himself breathing slowly and steadily, and his back hit something which was either a person or a wall. He turned, feeling like he was submerged in Jell-O, to make out the face of what he assumed to be a beautiful girl.

Her hair was long and white, definitely manufactured color. He wasn't as sure about the black straight bangs being fake. She had big dark eyes rimmed with intricate makeup, and a straight nose that seemed to flow up into her perfectly manicured eyebrows. She was smiling, and she lightly slapped his face to make sure he was paying attention before she gripped his shoulders and leaned in close. Her breath was cold against his ear as he listened.

"Follow me," was all she said, loudly to counteract the music. He registered what those words meant, and nodded to her. She gently took his hand in hers and turned to walk back in the direction she'd appeared from. He stumbled but began walking after her, gripping her hand tightly to make sure he didn't lose her. Thoughts swam in his head. Did you bump into her? You'd better apologize. And what about Jaime and Kellin? You didn't tell them where you were going. You should tell them. Do they care? They wouldn't have left you alone to trip at your first rave if they cared. Fuck them. Fuck the both of them. Follow the girl.

The ribbons of colorful sound began to dissipate as the pair walked further, music becoming less and less intense against Vic's eardrums. He finally found it within himself to speak up. "Sorry for... bumping into you," he slurred, slowly blinking his brown eyes. He heard her tell him it was alright. It felt so good to close his eyes...

A man's gruff voice snapped Vic out of his tripping stupor. He opened his eyes to see the beautiful girl standing, talking to a tall man with curly, short brown hair and a scruffy beard. He noticed that his brows were just as perfectly manicured as the girl's. They were looking at him. Vic looked at his beat up shoes, laces still dragging the ground, not making eye contact. He felt like the earth under his feet was breathing, undulating beneath him. He didn't know what was going on, or where he was. By the time that thought sunk in, the man was walking towards him. Vic stepped backwards reflexively, but his damn shoelaces had other plans. He felt himself leaning further and further backwards, but he never hit the ground. Instead, big arms wrapped around him and hoisted him into the air and over a broad shoulder. He realized at that moment that this wasn't good.

"Hey... where am I?" Vic asked slowly, trying to make sure he was heard and understood. "Underground," the big man stated plainly. Vic couldn't tell if it was the acid talking or if the man had an accent from somewhere in England or the like. He suddenly felt the man start walking. "Where are we going?" Vic asked again. "Underground," the man again replied. Vic started to get fed up but worry also began coursing through him. He knew this wasn't right. He attempted a punch to the man's back, but he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He felt himself swung back over the man's shoulder and pulled against him. A large arm snaked around his neck and squeezed, and Vic was once again reminded of how nice it felt to close his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic comes to.

Vic groaned as he came to, trying to stretch. He was halted in his pursuits of comfort by rough chains tight against his wrists, pulling his arms behind his back. He opened his eyes quickly to see nothing but a dark room - no windows, no clear doorways, no furniture. Just four dark walls trapping him. He whipped his head around as much as he could, struggling to his feet from where his knees had been pulled up against his chest. He, however, had been expecting his legs to work - when they both promptly fell asleep due to being pulled up for so long, he could do nothing but slam into the floor.

"Ow!" He hollered, writhing on the ground and trying to stand up again. Suddenly, he heard the scrape of metal on metal, and looked up to see red light pouring into the room, revealing his current state. A man, backlit by the doorway, chuckled as he stepped inside. Vic squinted and was able to recognize the man - the same man who'd picked him up and choked him earlier. He was wearing a black suit jacket and what looked like a tee shirt, with black pants on to match, and he was wearing dress shoes. Vic rolled over and tried to back away, but couldn't. The man sighed.

"I'm not gonna hurt you again, unless you start being reckless. Poppy said you'd be coming to about now." Vic frowned. Poppy? "Who's that?" He asked.

"Poppy," the man said, "is the girl you followed. Really? You followed someone whose name you didn't even know? Did your parents teach you nothing?"

Something about the man asking about his parents didn't sit right with Vic at all. "Don't talk about my parents," he snapped. He was rewarded with a kick in the face. "What the fuck!?" He shouted, pain shooting through where he'd been kicked. He began writhing again, and the man leaned down, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shoved him back into a sitting position. He once again shoved his legs so that his knees pressed against his chest. Back where he'd started.

"Look," the man grumbled, "you may be a bit of an idiot, but you're our idiot now." Vic scowled. "What the hell do you mean, our? Who do you work for!?" He asked indignantly. "Is this some sort of mob scene? Did somebody put a fucking hit out on me?" The man rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes, this is a mob scene, and yes, someone put a hit out on you. Idiot. No."

"Then what the fuck IS it!?" Vic hollered. The man smiled and nodded. "You'll see."

"There you go again with the fucking short answers!" Vic was full on shouting now, but he didn't care. He just wanted answers and he just wanted out. "Tell me where I am!"

But instead of answering, all the man did was walk away. He slammed the door behind him, once again leaving Vic in total darkness.

Vic was furious. He was so angry - angry at the man for talking to him like he was stupid, angry at the girl for tricking him. But mostly he was angry at himself. Why had he been stupid enough to leave Jaime and Kellin? Why had he been stupid enough to trust some girl whose name he didn't even know? Why would he even take some stupid acid at his very first stupid rave? Stupid, stupid, stupid. The man was right. Vic really was an idiot.

He kept dwelling on this fact - that he was stupid - until it exhausted him. He wasn't even tired, but he was exhausted. He felt a bruise forming on his face where the man had kicked him. Ouch. Stupid.

For what felt like hours, maybe even days, Vic sat in the darkness of that horrible room. What were they going to do to him? His mind began to race with horrible visions of himself being waterboarded or forced into a room full of parasitic insects or even killed. He tapped his foot rapidly against the ground. He worried with the bit of chain his fingers could reach. He wrung his hands. He did anything to try and distract himself.

Suddenly, Vic heard a rhythmic tap. Finally, it registered to him. Footsteps were approaching.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic meets two men.

Vic squinted and turned his head away as the red light suddenly begin again pouring from the doorway. He, once his eyes adjusted, glanced back at the doorway. He had intended just to glance, to fake being nonchalant, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the two people in the doorway. One was the man who had kicked him in the face earlier, and even from his sitting position Vic knew he was much shorter than both of them. The other figure was lankier, embracing the first. Their arm was around the first person's shoulders, other arm joining opposite to clasp their hands together. They had all their weight on one leg, so their hip jutted out at an angle and their other leg dangled in comparison. Vic couldn't see what they were wearing. But even in the dark, Vic could tell they were smiling.

"Mmm, Joshie," they purred - Vic recognized the voice as masculine and definitely British, "you've made quite a catch with this one." So Joshie was the man's apparent name. Okay.

"Don't look at me," Joshie stated plainly, "it was almost all Poppy. She found him tripping - said his pupils were like planets - and got him to follow her all the way straight to me—"

"Straight to us," the other corrected. "In case you've forgotten," they chided, stepping closer to Vic, "he's mine now." Vic's eyes widened. "M— What do you mean 'mine'!? I'm nobody's! I'm my own person!" He was horrified at the prospect of being someone else's property. And of course he was British. Always the fucking British taking whatever they wanted as their own!

He was ripped from his mental tirade by their voice. "I mean you're mine. You belong to me, just like everyone else in this place. My followers, my people, my partners." Vic's eyes thought they'd pop out if they got any wider. "Partners? Like, sexual!? Fuck off! I'm not gonna be somebody's whore! And where is this place anyway!?" He shouted, demanding to know. They simply rolled their eyes and reached into their pocket for a small, oblong device. Vic started rapidly shaking his head. "Don't fucking touch me with that!"

"Relax," they said sweetly, raising it to their lips and taking a drag. Vic realized it was only a vaping device and he felt stupid once again. They, meanwhile, got on their knees in front of him and leaned in. "Besides, I'd never harm you, precious. After all, who am I to destroy what's mine?" As they spoke, they reached out to brush their knuckles over Vic's cheek. As soon as their fingers met his skin, he kicked at them as hard as possible. They recoiled and Joshie stepped forward, but drew back as he realized they had it under control. They lunged forward and wrapped their hand around Vic's throat almost effortlessly and slammed the back of his head into the ground, straddling him and leaning in close. Up close, Vic could feel their weight and strength and he knew he was overpowered. He could also make out their face - definitely masculine features, big brown eyes with three dots under one, a large straight nose, and a tattoo above their— his eyebrow. He breathed slowly, measured breaths as he hovered just above Vic. Their noses could almost touch.

"Never fucking try that again, you little fucking cunt, or I will singlehandedly tear you limb from limb. Do you hear me?" Vic could only choke. "Do you hear me!?" His voice got louder and rougher as he squeezed Vic's throat. Vic nodded as best he could despite the throbbing pain in the back of his head and the fact that he was beginning to go unconscious due to a lack of food mixed with the lack of air. The man above him let go and leaned back to examine Vic. He ran his hand along Vic's collarbones and down his sternum, stopping at his stomach. Vic squirmed, unable to help himself.

He stood finally, letting Vic's lower half free. He gingerly stepped off of him and moved back over to wrap himself around Joshie. "Wh- what happened to 'I'd never hurt you'?" Vic coughed out. "I have exceptions," the man said simply.

"I could watch you forever," he purred, "lying there. But I'm afraid Josh and I have other business. Take care, precious, don't do anything reckless." So Josh was the first man's name after all. Vic watched helplessly as the two strode out. Seconds before the door slammed shut he cried out, "Wait!" The other man looked back at him. "You never told me where I am," Vic whimpered, still unable to really speak. The man smiled at him, turned back once more, and slammed the door.

It was dark again, and he still didn't know where he was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic met Josh, and meets the strange man for real this time.

"Good morning, precious," a familiar voice called, bouncing off the walls of the small dark room. Vic jerked awake to see only the lanky man bathed in red light. He was wearing a red collared button-down, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He wore fishnet sleeves underneath that reminded Vic of fingerless gloves. His pants were dark, probably black, and had patches of what looked like newspaper clippings printed on cloth sewn onto them. He wore calf high black platform boots. Why does he need those, Vic wondered, if he's already tall? His middle parted hair was dark brown, almost black, and curled out softly at the ends. On his neck, covering a tattoo of what looked like a flower, sat a black spiked choker collar.

Vic watched as he stepped closer, holding something in his hands. He eyed him suspiciously. He didn't quite trust the man with himself yet, especially not alone, but the scent of food hit him and all his fear was replaced by a ravenous hunger. The man placed the tray in front of Vic and looked him up and down. Vic frowned.

"I can't eat this." The man looked confused. "Why not?" Vic stared at him dumbly. "Because if you didn't notice my hands are tied." The man just smiled and looked down at the tray. "Who says you're the one feeding yourself?"

Vic was taken quite aback by this. Nobody but himself had fed him since he was a baby, and he certainly wasn't going to be spoonfed at 23 years old. "What?" He asked, dumbfounded. The man simply sat down on his knees and picked up a fork. The meal was simple - it was just potatoes and broccoli - but it seemed to Vic the best thing in the world. He, however, wasn't going to let his dignity be stripped from him. He clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way while the other man stabbed a piece of potato and held it out to him.

"Eat it," he coaxed, eyes locking on Vic's for a moment before he noticed how tightly Vic's jaw was clenched. "Eat it," he snapped, already fed up with Vic's bullshit. Vic shook his head and furrowed his brows to let him know he wouldn't do anything. The man rolled his eyes and shoved the tray aside, pulling Vic's legs out in front of him and once again straddling him. Vic made a noise in protest and tried to jerk away from him, but only succeeded in lying on his back. Fuck, he thought. He was stuck. The man above him leaned down and shoved the fork in his face. "Eat it."

Vic shook his head again. The man huffed angrily and grabbed Vic's chin, yanking his mouth open just a little. Vic fought hard to keep his mouth tightly shut. He shook Vic's head rapidly and again pulled his mouth open, this time hooking his fingers over Vic's bottom teeth and pulling his mouth open wide enough to shove the fork in. He snapped Vic's mouth shut and forced him to start chewing.

Once the food was in his mouth Vic ate gladly, but was determined to put up a fight. He looked up at the man with contempt. "I have an idea— if you answer my questions, I'll eat," he offered. The man chewed his bottom lip. "Why not for every piece of food you eat, I'll answer a question," he countered. Vic, surprised his bargain worked, nodded eagerly. The man sighed with relief and speared a floret of broccoli with his fork. Vic sighed. "Okay, so, first, could you get off of me?"

The man moved off of Vic, and allowed him to hug his knees back to his chest. "Now eat," he demanded, waving the piece of broccoli in his face. Vic looked taken aback. "What?" He asked. "I said eat," the man replied, "because that was a question." Vic glowered at him. He really didn't feel like fighting with him about it, though, so he ate.

"First of all. Where am I?"

"You're underground."

He ate.

"Where underground?"

"Nearish the illegal rave site - don't even think about leaving. The paths are long and winding and you'll certainly get lost."

He ate.

"Why me?"

"We've been scoping out potential - you're young, you're strong, and have few friends. Nobody would really miss you."

He ate.

"Why wouldn't anybody miss me?"

"Apart from your friends and family, you're pretty obsolete. You don't have a job, you barely have a working car. You live with your friends. You're practically a burnout and you're only twenty-three."

He ate.

"Okay. So who are you?" Vic asked.

"Oliver Sykes," the man replied.

Vic didn't eat. He only stared. Oliver fucking Sykes, the most dangerous cult leader in practically the world, was right in front of him fucking feeding him. His mouth fell open as all the pieces clicked into place. He tried to speak but nothing would come out. The man - Oliver Sykes - smiled.

"Welcome to MANTRA."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Kellin miss Vic. (Quinnciado)

Sorry this chapter's so short, it woulda been a long one otherwise. Haha!

It had been about a week since Vic had been kidnapped by Poppy and Josh. About a week since he'd seen his friends. And about a day after he disappeared they started getting incredibly worried. 

"I'm sure he's just at some guy's house," Jaime sighed heavily as he put down his cup of coffee. Kellin huffed as he paced around the kitchen island. 

"Without texting or calling or anything for a straight week? Jaime! I told you we shouldn't have let him go anywhere without us! I mean, his first acid trip at his first rave?" 

Jaime sighed again. "I know, Kellin. I know. It was a really bad idea to let him go off by himself. I made a really stupid decision." 

Kellin walked over to stand behind Jaime and put his hands on his shoulders. "Jaime, it's not your fault. People mess up, I mean, it's just human nature." Jaime shook his head. 

"I don't think acid is human nature, man." He tilted his head back as Kellin started squeezing and massaging his shoulders. Kellin frowned thoughtfully. 

"Maybe if we go back to the rave site we'll find him, or at least a clue?"

"I dunno, man," Jaime muttered into his coffee mug as he took a sip. "Maybe we should get the cops involved—" 

"First of all, you know how I feel about cops. Second of all, they'd just fucking arrest us for trespassing and doing acid at an illegal underground rave, and the whole venue would get busted. We have gotta do this ourselves, dude," Kellin raved, gesticulating with his hands. Jaime chewed his lower lip. 

"Yeah," he sighed again, sipping the dregs of the coffee grounds out of his cup and gagging. "Yeuck, that's awful stuff."

Kellin rolled his eyes good-naturedly and nestled his head into Jaime's shoulder. "I gotta admit, it does feel good having the apartment to ourselves," he said, kissing Jaime gently behind the ear. "I just miss Vic. I'm worried about him."

"No duh you'd be worried, Kells, your best friend since seventh grade just disappeared." Jaime reached back to put his hand on Kellin's waist and swiveled his barstool around to face him. Kellin took a step so he could comfortably nestle himself into Jaime's arms. He wasn't crying, but he wasn't happy either. Jaime just let him dry sob into his chest for however long he needed.


	7. Chapter 7

TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of SELF HARM and PILLS

Vic woke up comfortably pulled close to a warm chest with an arm draped across his waist. He felt content, reveling in the warmth of the bed and the person next to him. That is, until he went to stretch and realized his left hand was still handcuffed to the headboard. 

"What the fuck!?" Vic yelled, shoving Oliver's bare chest as hard as he could. Oliver yelped, startled awake. Vic turned around and sat up, reflexively pulling his knees against his chest and glowering at Oliver, who put a hand up in surrender. 

"Vic," he eased, but Vic was absolutely not having it. 

"What the fuck were you doing sleeping with me? In my own fucking bed! I don't give a fuck what you think I am, I'm not some toy for you to play with however you want! I'm a fucking person! And I deserve not to get treated like a fucking body pillow that you can immobilize and mess with however you want to!" 

Oliver shook his head, sitting up and facing Vic. "It's not up to you where you sleep. You agreed that I could do whatever I wanted as long as it was within reason and that I could have you in exchange for letting you out of that chamber."

"That was fucking delusional of me! I'd been in there for fucking days living off of whatever vegetables you fed me and I was ready to relapse when you finally let me out!"

Oliver's gaze softened into something akin to worry. "Relapse?" He asked, looking around on Vic's skin, eyes eventually settling on the raised skin on his left wrist. "Hey," he said softly, holding out his hand and placing it on Vic's calf, "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I just assumed—"

"Yeah. You assumed. You just assumed that I was fine and not gonna suffer from being in total darkness for hours and hours not even knowing what day it is coming down off acid. You just assumed there was nothing wrong with me and that I could survive without my meds. Asshole. You don't know shit about me, after all." Vic slapped Oli's hand off his calf. "You didn't even know I'm depressed, that I used to— you didn't even think to break into my apartment to steal my meds for me so you could take proper care of me." 

Oliver just stared at him sadly for a while. 

"What?" Vic asked accusatorially. "You gonna guilt me now into making me feel bad for you?" He didn't even care if he was hurting Oliver with his lashing out anymore - he'd been unmedicated for days and was really feeling the crash. 

"What are you prescribed?" Oliver suddenly asked. 

"Huh?"

"What are you prescribed?"

"Uh," Vic started, frowning as he thought back. "Twenty milligrams of Prozac once a day and some acne medicine." Oliver nodded and got out of bed without a word. 

"Oh, don't tell me," Vic groaned. Oliver rummaged in a cupboard, which allowed Vic to get a look at his intricate back tattoos. He watched how his muscles moved as he searched through the cabinet. Finally, the sound of shaking pills in a bottle snapped Vic back to reality. Oliver turned around with an orange bottle. 

"The doctor didn't immediately stop prescribing me my twenty milligrams of Prozac when I went on it originally. I just happen to—" 

"Have some left over... Holy fuck, Oliver. I, um, I don't know what to say."

"Don't have to say anything," Oliver said kindly as he fiddled the cap off of the bottle. "I just need you to take this. Okay?" Vic nodded enthusiastically. Oliver handed him the glass of water he had sitting on 'his' side of the bed, along with the blue and white pill. Vic took a gulp of water and downed the pill quickly. Just the rush of taking it and knowing he was going to feel better made him feel better right then. 

"Better?" Oliver asked. Vic nodded. 

"Look, I'm sorry— I'm sorry man. You weren't even doing anything but cuddling with me, and I just yelled my ass off at you." 

"It's okay," Oliver assured him, brown eyes big and sincere. He gave him a smile as he sat back down in bed, and Vic unfurled like a morning glory when it sees the sun, stretching out and yawning. He even let Oliver put his arm around his shoulders. 

"It's Sunday today," Oliver finally said, breaking the silence. 

"What's that mean?" Vic asked. 

"Tonight I have a broadcast."

"Broadcast?"

"A broadcast. And that means everyone, everyone, will tune in. So you'd better be on your best behavior."


	8. Chapter 8

"How do I look?" Oliver asked, striding out of the closet towards Vic. Vic looked up, expecting to see him in something a little more muted. Instead, his jaw fell open as he took in the man in front of him. Oliver was wearing a red collared shirt under a deeper red suit jacket with newspaper clippings about the Charles Manson cult sewn all over it. His pants matched his jacket, and he wore plain black platform dress shoes. He still had on his black spiked choker, and his MANTRA symbol earring dangled from his ear. He blinked at Vic. "Is it okay?"

Vic blinked slowly, looking Oliver up and down. "Oh, fuck me," he whispered. Oliver smiled. 

"What?"

"Nothing," Vic said quickly. "You look incredible." Oliver grinned, tongue poking out from between his teeth. He walked over to Vic and held out his hand. 

"Come with me?" 

"Where?"

"The closet, so you can get dressed. I had something made for you."

Vic frowned, extending his hand to Oliver's. "How'd you get my measurements?"

Oliver smiled in return, taking his hand tightly. "You know you sleep very still, don't you?" He guided Vic towards the closet. "I took your measurements while you slept. Once you're asleep, you're quite asleep," he added, opening the closet door and letting Vic step inside. Vic admired the array of red and black clothes that Oliver had acquired. "Yours is here," Oliver mentioned, gesturing towards a mannequin that boasted a suit that nearly matched his, but the red shirt was black and the clippings were all about David Koresh. 

Vic felt the soft fabric and gingerly took the suit jacket off the mannequin. He laid it aside and began unbuttoning the shirt. Meanwhile, Oliver leaned against the door, not making any move to leave. 

"Are you gonna, like, go?" Vic asked. Oliver simply shook his head. 

"Why would I? I should be able to at least see the craftsmanship of what's mine."

"There you go again with that 'mine' thing," Vic muttered to himself as he turned his back to slough off his tee shirt. It felt good to have a change of clothes for once. He stretched before he put the black shirt on, finally able to do so without being hindered by chains or cuffs. The shirt fit like a glove. It was almost too perfect. He pulled his new jacket on over it and admired himself in the mirror in the corner. Oliver tossed his head to move his hair out of his face. 

"Are you going to change your pants, too? I really do hate dark wash denim," Oliver complained. Vic sighed as he unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans, quickly sliding them off and stepping out of them. He wanted to minimize the time he was so exposed. As he pulled his new pants on, he turned his head to see Oliver picking up a black choker not dissimilar to his own. He looked down to zip up and button his pants.

When he looked up Oliver was closer to him, moving forward with the choker in his hands. Vic looked apprehensively at it. "I'm not supposed to wear that, am I?"

Oliver frowned. "What did I say about best behavior?"

Vic sighed as he stepped forward obediently. However, Oliver was stepping forward at the same time, and Vic suddenly found himself face to chest with him. Oliver wasted no time in tilting Vic's head up so he could put the choker around his neck. Vic stiffened as he realized Oliver was fastening it like a dog collar with its buckle. He had assumed it would be a button-on choker. 

"Turn around," Oliver ordered, "I can't see to fasten it when we're facing." Obediently again, Vic turned around. 

He felt Oliver press up against him while he fastened his collar. It wasn't uncomfortable to be flush against him, warm and inviting. Oliver let go of the choker and Vic turned, once again face to chest with him. He didn't have time to even register before Oliver's arms were around him, pulling him closer. "Oli-" he choked out before Oliver hushed him. Oliver leaned down so his mouth was leveled just above Vic's ear. 

"Vic, I expect absolutely everything from you. And don't think I don't see the way you look at me. If you're good tonight you can expect to be justly rewarded. If you're less than, you can expect to be punished. Are we clear?" 

Vic swallowed and nodded, feeling Oliver's hands slip down to his waist and squeeze. 

"Good," Oliver said curtly, suddenly breaking his hold on Vic and straightening up like nothing had happened. "Come on then, I have to do my makeup and then we'll go."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut lol

warning there is sexy sex in here. Basically just porn not gonna miss much if u don't read. lemme recap in case u don't: Vic and Oli do the broadcast but Vic messes it up and gets punished. Somebody comes in at the end when they're asleep calling Oli's name. 

Oliver slammed Vic into the wall and smashed his lips against his. Vic was taken aback and he couldn't help but moan as Oliver forced his tongue past chapped lips. While Oliver's tongue practically fucked Vic's mouth, his hands roamed across his smaller body, pulling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, quickly following suit. Vic's fingers dug into Oliver's back. 

Oliver grabbed the back of Vic's head and pulled him away from the kiss, immediately forcing him to his knees in front of him and shoving his face into his crotch. 

"Come on, bitch," Oliver snapped. "Has it ever occurred to you that I have business to take care of?" 

Vic opened his mouth and Oliver wasted no time in unbuttoning his pants and dropping them to the floor. Vic waited while Oliver tugged his waistband so his boxers could join his pants on the ground. He grabbed the back of Vic's head and shoved him down on his cock. Vic choked. 

"Stupid bitch," Oliver growled, bracing himself against the wall with one hand and grabbing a fistful of Vic's hair. Vic grabbed his hips and rolled his tongue across the tip of Oli's cock before he was once again shoved down on it. Drool ran in rivulets down his chin, and Oliver kept him down while he fucked into his mouth. Vic sucked him off like everything depended on it - and, to be fair, it did. 

Oliver's breath came in short gasps as he got closer and closer. Vic moaned around his cock and tears pricked the corners of his eyes whenever Oliver thrust particularly hard and hit the back of his throat. Without warning, Oliver came with a loud moan and filled Vic's mouth with cum. Vic pulled off and cum spilled out of his mouth before he could even start swallowing. Oliver stared him down while he pulled his boxers and pants back up. 

"You shouldn't have wasted that, you stupid fucking whore," he snapped. While Vic got to his feet Oliver started walking back in the direction of home. He knew he'd have Vic again. 

The door opened and the second Vic had stepped inside, Oliver had him by the hair and forced him towards the bed. Vic immediately slumped down and waited for Oli - but he didn't have to wait very long. Oliver knelt between his legs and slid one hand under his shirt and up his stomach, popping all the buttons in the process. He practically tore Vic's shirt and jacket off and discarded them like trash. Vic whined in protest but was cut off when Oli tightly wrapped his hand around Vic's throat and squeezed. Vic choked and coughed, but Oliver barely cared. He was too busy unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them with one hand. 

Once he succeeded, he kicked off his shoes and his pants and pulled Vic's pants and boxers down while Vic kicked off his own pair of shoes. Once the offending garments had been removed, Oliver resumed choking Vic while he reached over to the bedside table and pulled a condom from his drawer. Oliver loved sex, but was always safe about it. He ripped open the packet with his teeth and pulled out the condom, which he easily rolled on one-handedly. Vic choked out a moan as Oliver pressed the tip of his cock against his ass, just circling his hole like he wasn't desperate to be fucked. Vic whimpered. 

"Oli, please— please fuck me, please, I wanna feel your cock—" Vic begged, all dignity replaced by lust and need. Oliver couldn't help but smile. 

"Whatever you want, precious."

With that, he slammed into Vic hard, making the shorter man nearly scream. He arched his back while Oliver leaned over him and pressed their lips together. He kissed softly despite pounding Vic like a desperate whore, reveling in the muffled moans the smaller man let out. 

"You're never getting this again if you don't learn to control yourself during public announcements. Do you understand?" Oliver asked sharply. When Vic didn't respond immediately, too overcome with pleasure, Oliver backhanded him. "Do you fucking understand, or do I have to spell it out for you?" Vic nodded. "Not enough," Oli snapped, smacking him again. 

"I under— fuck!— I understand," Vic moaned, loving the pain, delirious thanks to the pleasure he felt. Oliver fucked him hard, this time hitting just the right spot to make him lose any grip he may still have had. 

"Fuck! Oli! Please, harder, right there, don't stop— fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum—" Vic moaned nearly incoherently as a particularly hard thrust from Oli directly hitting his prostate sent him over the edge. He came hard with a loud whine, writhing as Oliver didn't stop until he himself came too. 

"Good boy," Oli panted, pulling out and tying off the condom. He threw it in the general direction of the garbage can in his room. Vic was breathing heavily and whimpered as Oliver picked up his ruined shirt and used it as a rag. He lie down next to Vic, draping his arm over the other, who was already dozing off. To his surprise, Vic turned to face him, wrapping him up in his own arms. 

Oliver lulled Vic with slow, steady breaths off to sleep. 

"Oliver!"


	10. Chapter 10

Oli sat up quickly as Josh came into the room speaking. 

"Oli, Curtis is back — he's demanding answers as to why you've got Vic with you. I can't get him to stop yelling at me."

Oliver's eyes rolled into the back of his head. The corner of his upper lip curled into a sneer as he brushed his hair out of his face. 

"God damn it. Josh? I'm finished."

"What?"

"I'm finished with his bullshit. He's had it in his head for too fucking long that I'm going to marry him of all people."

Vic was taken aback. Oliver was apparently supposed to marry somebody who wasn't him? Was it all fake?

Oliver turned to look at Vic. "I can tell you're confused — it's not what you think." He sighed loudly. "When I was a kid my dad promised me to a man who's about ten years my senior. He's a raging clingy bitch and hasn't left me alone about it since the day I turned eighteen. And I'm fucking finished with it. Besides," he said, cupping Vic's face in his hands, "I have you now."

With that, he dropped his face and leaned over the side of the bed to pick his boxers up from the ground. Josh sighed. "I'll go—"

"Go, stay, whatever. It's not like you haven't seen me naked before, anyway." Oliver remarked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he could put his boxers on. Josh leaned on the doorframe and looked over at Vic. 

"Glad I didn't interrupt anything," Josh joked, crossing his arms. "I think Oli would've killed me." 

Oliver laughed. "You're not who I'm thinking about killing today, believe me."

Vic couldn't help but worry - Oli talking about killing with a straight face freaked him out. He'd barely dated in his years, and the thought of dating anyone remotely dangerous had never even crossed his mind. He'd heard the stories about MANTRA, the death cult that was responsible for gas attacks and explosions all across the city, and about Oli being dangerous. But he never thought that Oli himself would be the one to kill. And why was he thinking about dating and Oli in the same way? This wasn't a relationship scenario. If anything, it was a power imbalance. 

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Oliver standing and walking towards the closet to fetch a change of clothes. He looked at Josh, who was still looking at him. "I see why Oli wanted you," Josh remarked, "cause you're certainly really cute." Vic couldn't help but blush. 

"Hey, don't make moves on my man," Oli shouted from the closet. Moments later he reappeared, dressed in a white collared shirt whose sleeves he was rolling up. He tossed Vic a pair of black jeans - it took Vic a moment to realize they were the jeans he'd shown up in, but dyed. "Always told you I hate dark wash denim," Oli said, having noticed Vic's perplexed expression. 

Vic simply turned away to pick his boxers up, standing only for a moment before discomfort shot through him and he collapsed back into bed, groaning. Oliver looked worried for a moment, but laughed soon after. "Aww, did I hurt you last night?" He asked, a smile on his face. Vic rolled his eyes. 

"Duh," he groaned, leaning over to successfully pick up his boxers and pull them on. Oliver watched as Vic dressed himself, watching him suck in a breath before he stood to put his jeans on. He sat back down as soon as he was able, pulling his shirt over his head. He was a little upset he couldn't wear the shirt Oli had had made for him anymore, but it sat torn in a pile on the floor. 

Oliver stood as soon as Vic pulled his hair from the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. "Come on," he said, reaching under his bed and procuring what looked like a crowbar. Vic inhaled sharply, realizing what that meant. He quickly stood up and leaned against the bedside table, still obviously in pain from standing up. Walking would be a different ballgame. Oli strode towards the door and waited for Vic to limp over to join him. 

"Josh, I expect you not to make a move on Vic, but I also need you to carry him for me," Oli stated plainly. Josh obliged, scooping Vic up and holding him like a bride mixed with a sack of flour. With that, they walked out of the room and left Oli's house.


	11. Chapter 11

TW for VIOLENCE 

sorry this is short!

Oli rammed the door with his shoulder and it flew open in front of him. He held his crowbar tightly in his hands as he walked into the room, immediately catching the attention of everyone in it. One man in particular. 

Oli had a smile on his face but absolutely nothing but boiling anger behind his eyes. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. 

"Curtis, come here," he ordered, feigning kindness. Vic clutched Josh's shoulder, already anticipating what was going to happen and fearing for the man named Curtis. He quickly stood and pranced over to the three, a smile apparent on his face despite the anger practically radiating off of Oliver. 

"For the last fucking time, I'm not marrying you." Curtis's face fell, replaced by a stern expression. 

"Your father promised you to me. I'm not expecting our own leader's son to go against his words."

"I don't give less of a shit what my dead father said about who I was going to marry. If anything you're the last man I'd ever want to see, let alone fucking marry and be tied to for the rest of my life. I'm done with you." Oli snapped. 

"What do you mean, done with me?" Curtis asked incredulously. "I'm an integral part of this community—"

Without even letting him get one more word out, Oli raised the crowbar and brought its point down directly in his face. Blood gushed from the spot his eye had been seconds before. Everyone in the room stood to watch the carnage they knew would be taking place. Vic froze, breath catching in his throat. 

Blood spattered everywhere as Oliver stood over Curtis, digging the crowbar under his collarbone and ripping it out of his skin. Blood poured from his mouth as he attempted to plead, but nothing would come out except a dull gargle. He brought the point down into his stomach, ripping it open and disemboweling him. Guts and blood spilled everywhere and the bubbling of stomach acid could be heard among the squelch of skin as Oli kept tearing Curtis apart. 

The next few hours were a dull blur to Vic. Holes were made in Curtis's hands. Blood stained the floor as he was carted away to be strung up on a cross. The people in the room praised Oliver for removing Curtis from their lives. The entire cult praised Oli for what he'd done. Poppy was chosen to replace Curtis. Vic sat in Oliver's bed replaying the scene over and over while Oliver took care of business with Josh in the other room. 

Vic's eyes were cloudy when Oliver entered the room. The moment he stepped into what Vic deemed his personal space, he reacted with his gut. 

"Get the FUCK away from me!" He hollered, scrambling back to get away from Oliver. "You fucking MURDERED somebody right in front of me!" He fell off the bed trying to get out of Oliver's reach. "You piece of SHIT!" He picked himself up and skirted the edge of the bed, careful not to get close to Oliver. "You fucking killed someone because he annoyed you? How fucking PATHETIC is that!? You're a HORRIBLE fucking person!" Vic made his way to the door, keeping direct eye contact with Oliver as he went. "I fucking HATE you!" 

With that, Vic fled to his room, slamming the door behind him. He flung himself into bed and started sobbing, not caring who heard and not caring who cared. He missed Jaime and Kellin, especially after seeing Curtis's spiky hair. They wouldn't treat him like an object. They wouldn't kill someone, especially not right in front of him. They wouldn't do this to him. He kept thinking until he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep. 

He woke up to a familiar sound, because it had been him just hours ago - crying.


	12. Chapter 12

Vic padded across his floor, pressing his ear against the door of his room to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, somebody was crying in the dining room just adjacent to Vic's bedroom. He also heard whispers of comfort. He decided, against his better judgment, to open the door just a crack. 

"What did I do to deserve this?" Oli sobbed into Josh's shoulder, arms tight around his neck. Josh was patting him on the back, holding him close. A jolt of jealousy shocked through Vic, but he quelled it instantly. Why would he be jealous of someone holding a cold-blooded murderer?

"It's okay, Oli. He was bound to find out eventually that it's just your nature. Besides, with Curtis out of the way, there's nothing stopping you from marrying him." Josh eased, giving Oliver a squeeze. A fresh bout of sobs burst from the other man. 

"Would he even want to? You heard him — he probably hates me now! He probably wants me dead!"

"He can't leave," Josh soothed once again, "so he's bound to have to learn to love you despite that. He doesn't want you dead. The first time you killed someone you were just as distraught as he was. Once he realizes nothing he does will change you, he'll come to and get past it. Okay?" 

Oliver nodded slowly. "Okay." He sat up, still in Josh's lap, and sighed. "I still have to punish him for what he called me, though. I have to let him know I won't tolerate insolence or ignorance." 

Vic shuddered. The thought of Oliver hurting him, or worse, killing him, was almost unbearable. He had his whole life ahead of him, he was going to escape, he wasn't going to die in this underground prison. His thoughts raced back to Jaime and Kellin. They were probably sick with worry. He had to get out and see them again, and move far away so Oliver couldn't find him ever again. He had to get out. But how?

Forgetting his situation, Vic slammed the door on his way back into bed, frustrated. He immediately regretted his mistake as he heard Oli shout. "Don't fucking slam my doors!" Moments later, his door was opened once again. 

"Get the fuck away," Vic warned, standing with the bed between himself and Oliver, who looked upset. 

"How much did you hear?"

"What?"

"I said," Oliver snapped, shutting the bedroom door and coming closer to Vic, "how much did you hear?"

"I don't answer to murderers," Vic bit back coldly. He watched Oliver falter. "What? Don't like it when I tell you the truth? I know what I need to know about you."

"Shut up," Oliver growled. 

"What are you gonna do if I don't? Kill me?" Vic snapped back, fear crawling up his spine when Oliver didn't answer. Fuck. He blinked and Oliver was closer than he'd been seconds before. Vic backed up quickly, but froze when his back bumped the wall. Shit. He realized what he'd trapped himself in. 

"Shut," Oliver hissed, slamming his palm against the wall next to Vic's face, "up." Before Vic could react his hand was around his neck, pinning him to the wall and squeezing. Vic choked hard, eyes widening as his hands clasped Oli's wrist. Would Oliver kill him? I fucking dare you, he thought. But he didn't dare him. Not at all. 

"You fucking idiot. I kill for the good of the organization. If I hadn't have killed Curt, he would have defected, and I wasn't going to fucking marry him either. So I had to kill him. It's not selfish, you ignorant piece of shit. And you heard, since you were listening, that I do not tolerate ignorance," Oliver spat. Vic opened his mouth to try and say something but before he could even formulate his words he was cut off as Oli's lips slammed into his. 

Vic's fingernails dug into Oliver's wrist, hard enough to make him pull away. "What the fuck are you doing!?" Vic yelled. Oliver, without missing a beat, backhanded him. Vic's mouth again fell open as he stared up at Oliver. "What the fuck!? I thought you—"

"You assume too quickly," Oli snarled, once again pinning Vic against the wall, this time lifting him by the throat so he was at Oli's eye level. Vic gagged hard and choked. Oliver pressed up close to him, using his upper body to hold him against the wall. "I fucking hate when anyone assumes anything about me, and that applies to you too. Don't think you're so special just because I'm attracted to you," Oli muttered into Vic's ear as he leaned in. Vic whimpered helplessly as Oli nipped his earlobe. "You're not very smart, are you?" He asked, moving to kiss Vic's jaw. "That's okay. Once you learn how I run things you'll get a lot smarter." 

With that, he pulled away, sending Vic crumpling to the floor, coughing. He stood over him, staring down with a mix of contempt and lust.


	13. Chapter 13

basically oli and vic bone. you don't miss much. 

Pulling Vic by the hair, Oliver yanked him up and pulled him close. He turned and forced Vic face down, bent over the side of the bed, ass pressed up against Oli's crotch. Vic tried to regain at least a little control of the situation, swinging his arms to try and get a good hold on Oli. Instead, Oli effortlessly caught both his arms, wrenching them painfully behind his back and making him yelp. He grabbed Vic's waist and ground his hips into him hard. 

Vic whined as Oli fussed with the button of his jeans, eventually managing to unbutton and unzip them. Before pulling them down, he reached into Vic's back pocket and pulled out a condom. The bastard knew all along, Vic thought, but his thoughts were cut short as he felt his jeans and boxers being pulled down, leaving him exposed. He turned his head, cheek now pressed against the bed, to watch as Oli unbuttoned his pants while he kicked his shoes off. He tugged them down and stepped out of them, immediately pressing his still-covered erection into Vic's ass once again. 

Vic whined - he knew Oli was punishing him, but he wanted him more than anything right now. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn't. He wasn't thinking that Oli was a danger to everyone around him at that moment. He wasn't thinking about the fact that earlier that same day he'd seen Oli kill someone. No, all he could think about was how badly he wanted Oli to break him.

He was brought out of his daze by the sound of Oli ripping open the condom with his teeth. His eyes opened and he saw that Oli had pulled his boxers down, leaving himself momentarily bare for Vic to see. His cock wasn't a bad length at all - not that Vic would ever consider it bad, not after the night before. He watched as Oli rolled the condom on and immediately felt a hand on his ass, fingers digging in. Vic groaned as he felt Oli press up against his ass once again, sliding his hand up his spine and grabbing the back of his neck. He squeezed tightly and forced Vic's face into the bed, muffling him.

"You have to be a good boy," Oliver spat. "You have to obey — you can't go around calling people names and expecting not to be punished for it. Now I'm going to be kind and I'm not going to kill you for your insolence, but I'll certainly make you feel something. Are we clear? Are you going to be good?" When Vic didn't reply, Oliver got a bit fed up. 

Vic moaned loudly as Oli slammed his cock into him without warning. Pain shot through him, but before he could even blink, pain turned to pleasure and he wanted more. He arched his back to give Oli more access, and whimpered as Oli let go of his neck and pulled his head up by the hair. 

"Are you going to be good now that you're feeling something?" Oli asked, taunting. Vic moaned again and wrung his hands. 

"Please, Oli, I'll be so good, I'll be the best I can be, just—"

"Beg." That was all Oli said, all it took for Vic to open his mouth. He didn't have to tell him what to beg for. Vic didn't even register that he was begging to be fucked until moments after he'd begun. 

"Fuck! Oli, please, fuck me, fuck me hard, break me, please, just fuck me! Fuck, please, I want—"

"You want me to ruin your pretty little ass?" Oli asked. Vic moaned out an mm-hmm. Oli couldn't help but smile. He loved hearing Vic when he got desperate. Without saying anything, he raised the hand that wasn't being used to hold Vic's arms back, and smacked Vic's ass, hard enough to leave a red mark. Vic yelped. He did it again, getting another yelp from Vic. His fingers dug into his ass, pulling him closer as he began fucking him hard.

"Mm, fuck— Oli— 'm gonna cum—" Vic choked out. But before he could, Oli slowed down to a dragging pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into him. 

"No you're not," he said calmly, keeping his slow pace. Tears pricked the corners of Vic's eyes as he realized he couldn't force anything from Oli. "You're not cumming til I do first. And if you end up getting off before me, I'll be quite upset with you. And you don't want me upset with you, hm?"

"No, I don't," Vic agreed, desperate, willing to say anything to be allowed to cum. Oli picked up the pace, once again slamming Vic like a whore and making him moan like one too. He heard Oli's breathing become more erratic, felt him lean over and bury his face in the smaller man's shoulder. He bit his bottom lip, holding it between his teeth as he struggled not to cum. 

Cum filled the condom as Oli sank his teeth into Vic's shoulder, muffling the moan he let out. But he kept fucking Vic as he tilted his head to press his lips against his ear. 

"Go on," he allowed. Vic came almost immediately with a disgusting moan, drool spilling from his mouth and pooling on the bed. He collapsed under Oli as soon as he pulled out, tying off the condom and tossing it into the garbage can next to his bed. He rolled over onto his back, watching Oli use his tee shirt like a towel to clean the pair off. The taller man fell into bed next to Vic, turning his head to look at him. Vic looked over at him, too, feeling love radiating off of him and seeing it apparent in his eyes. In that moment, he forgave Oli for everything. In that moment he was willing to do anything for him. 

Oli sat up and moved to lie in bed properly, pulling Vic up with him and setting him in his lap. He pulled the covers up over them and kissed the top of Vic's head.

All was well.


	14. Chapter 14

Vic opened his mouth to yawn deeply, squeezing his arms around Oli and opening his bleary eyes. He was comfortable and felt surprisingly safe in the taller man's arms. Oli was warm and inviting, the perfect mix for quelling Vic's cold and uncomfortable feelings. He squirmed in Oli's arms, trying to get comfortable once again. 

"Mm," Oli groaned, twitching as Vic moved. Vic accidentally jammed his knee into his crotch, having forgotten where his leg was positioned, and Oli snapped awake. He slid his hands down Vic's back low enough to grab his ass and squeeze. Vic yelped as Oli tossed him out of his arms, immediately crawling on top of him and leaning down to kiss him. 

Vic, wanting to play hard to get, tilted his head away from Oli, who frowned. A small smile danced across Vic's face as he heard Oli's frustrated huff. He quickly tilted his head back and pressed a kiss to Oli's nose. Oli blinked, startled, but a smile broke across his face and he nuzzled into Vic's neck, making the smaller man laugh. Oli started kissing down Vic's neck, making him moan softly and grip his shoulders. 

As Oli was kissing Vic's stomach, about to go down on him, the door opened. Oli snapped his head up and turned towards the door, scowling, but his face lit up when a familiar Josh walked into the room. 

"Pharm wanted me to come talk with you, they need that list of the shipment we should send away for. Am I interrupting? I noticed you glaring," Josh said, shrugging and leaning against the door, arms folded. Oli rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

"Yes, I was about to give Vic the best— oh, never mind that anymore. If he hadn't have been a tease, we would've been done by now. Stupid whore doesn't know how not to be a tease, though, so that's to be expected. Don't worry. He's getting what he deserves soon." 

Vic blushed at Oli's harsh words - maybe they meant he'd be getting fucked again. Hopefully. 

Oli leaned over the side of the bed to pick up his boxers and his pants, sitting up and pulling his boxers up to his thighs before he had to stand. Josh was obviously eyeing him, and a familiar twinge of jealousy coursed through Vic. Oli pulled his pants on with the same method, buttoning them and straightening up. Vic tried to get out of bed to do the same, but a sharp pain shot through him and he collapsed. He never learned, did he? After a night with Oli he was bound to be in pain. 

"Josh, have you got that list?" Oli asked, shooting him a look. Josh simply nodded, fishing in his pocket for a piece of paper. He produced it with a comical flourish, and Oli rose to join him in the doorway. They both gazed at Vic, who was struggling to put his pants on. When he finally finished, he stood and staggered over to the door, leaning heavily on Oli, who put his arm around his shoulders. He took the paper from Josh, scooped Vic up, and carried him away. 

The purple light glowed, brightly illuminating the office Oli stood in, Vic limping into the room behind him. At the other end of the long table sat a tallish man with dark brown hair - he had his eyes fixed on Vic. 

"Nobody told me you found a new toy," the man said, plainly interested in him. Oli glanced at Vic before back at the man.

"Right. He's pretty, isn't he?" He asked, taking Vic's face in his hands and tilting it to look across the table. "Tell Mat your name," he provoked. Vic cleared his throat, but his voice was still soft. 

"Uh, Vic Fuentes," he said, voice soft and dry. Mat smiled as he got out of his chair and walked over to the two other men. Vic registered him as just shorter than Oli when he came closer. He was taken aback when Mat leaned down and gripped his chin, tilting his face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Do you have my list," Mat asked, "Or did you just come to give me a present?" He pulled Vic in close enough for their noses to bump. Vic struggled out of his grip. 

"Jesus! Is everyone here so fucking forward?" Vic snapped, brushing himself off and straightening up despite the pain. Oli frowned and moved in close to Vic himself. 

"What'd you say?" He asked, voice dangerously low. Vic knew he'd fucked up even mentioning religion around him.

"Uh, Jes-" Vic began, but was harshly cut off by a hard smack from Oli that jerked his head to the side. "Don't you ever fucking mention that name. He doesn't fucking exist down here. Do you understand me?" Oli spat. Vic nodded his head, bringing a hand up to hold his face where he'd been hit. Mat whistled as Oli straightened up. He leaned against him, draping an arm over Oli's shoulders. 

"You're teaching him well, Syko. Now, do you have my list?" He asked. Oli nodded and pulled out the piece of paper he'd been given earlier by Josh. Mat smiled. "Perfect! I'll have the pharmacy's order out by the afternoon. Thank you," he finished, turning his head to place a kiss on Oli's cheek. Oli smiled back, and wanting to add insult to injury, took Mat's face by the chin and kissed him passionately. Vic curled his hands into fists, anger biting though him. 

Mat pulled away, a smug smile apparent on his face. "You wanted those hallucinogens for yourself, too, right?" He asked. Oli nodded. 

"Yeah, have them bottle up a steady supply for me, and deliver it to Josh. He'll bring it to me at his earliest convenience."

"Why don't I just deliver it to you?"

"Because, Mat," Oli said lightheartedly, "I don't exactly trust you not to take any." Mat rolled his eyes, still smiling. 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, boss. Just don't get mad at me if shit goes down the drain — don't kill the messenger."


	15. Chapter 15

"Come on!" 

Rubber soles slapped against pavement as two men ran towards a manhole cover on a familiar deserted street. The taller man put his hands on his knees and leaned over, panting roughly, and the smaller started trying to lift the cover himself. 

"Kellin," Jaime warned, "you might hurt yourself if you try to do it alone, let me help."

"I'm okay, Jaime, just lemme try— OW! Fuck!" Kellin shouted, hand clasping his shoulder. Jaime sighed. 

"Come on, Kells. Lemme do it. I've done it a good few more times than you have, okay?" He eased, digging his fingers into the holes of the manhole cover and twisting. The cover came off fairly easily this time, thanks to the recent rave. Jaime grabbed Kellin's hand and Kellin looked up at him. 

"Are you sure about this?"

Kellin nodded - there wasn't any going back in his mind. They had to find Vic, or at least a clue about where he could be. He slipped down into the manhole and began his descent, Jaime following suit. Once he pulled the cover back over the hole, he clicked on his flashlight and once again illuminated the darkness as the pair climbed down. 

Vic giggled as he watched mushrooms growing rapidly up the wall of Oli's bedroom, wrapped up safely in his arms. He'd been tripping since the night before, and hadn't slept, but knew it was starting to wear off as he gradually stopped seeing double and the room stopped breathing and spinning. He turned to curl up in Oli's arms, and Oli kissed the top of his head while he rubbed his back. They were comfortable together, finally, and Vic was happy to be with him. He barely even thought about life before MANTRA anymore. 

The pair was rudely interrupted by a girl's voice coming from behind the door. Oli sat up, pulling Vic up with him. "Come in," he beckoned. The door opened to reveal a smallish girl with thick winged eyeliner, bangs black with white hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. Vic took a moment before he was able to recognize her as the girl who had led him to this place. 

"Poppy!" Oliver said happily, clearly relieved to see her. She, however, wasn't happy at all. 

"Hello. I'm here to tell you something. I'm here to tell you that there are two people coming down our tunnel, and that they are not from MANTRA." She said this quickly and clearly, and Oliver's face fell. He set Vic aside, off of his lap, and got out of bed to pull his shoes on. 

"Fuck," he muttered. "Are they with anyone?" He asked her, straightening up. Poppy shook her head. 

"Alone," she confirmed. Oli breathed a sigh of relief. Vic, meanwhile, was putting on his own shoes. A familiar twinge of worry shocked him as Oli reached under his bed and grabbed his crowbar. Vic shuddered, worried for the two people, despite not knowing a thing about them. The two men joined the girl at the door, who promptly turned on her heel and led them out. 

"Fuck," Kellin whispered, clutched close to Jaime. Little pieces of shoelace were all the two had had to go off of, using them as a way to track Vic through the tunnels. But they abruptly stopped at a fork in the road. Jaime groaned. 

"Great, now what?" He asked. 

Kellin looked shocked as he turned to stare at Jaime. "I was counting on you to know what to do!" He complained. 

Jaime huffed. "Me!? I don't know the first thing about tracking people! I went to college for a fucking culinary arts degree! You're the one who went to college in psychology, maybe you can psychoanalyze a way out of this!"

"Psychoanalyze what!? The sewer system? It's a fucking labyrinth, Jaime," Kellin said, sounding defeated. Jaime sighed and pulled him close. 

"Don't worry," he soothed. "We'll find him, and—"

He was cut off as he was tackled. Kellin screamed, but he himself was cut off as a knife was pressed against his throat. 

They had been so caught up in their petty bickering that they hadn't been able to hear the footsteps approaching. Jaime struggled under a crowbar pressed against his throat while Kellin whimpered under the blade. 

"Who the fuck," the man above Jaime growled, "are you two?" Jaime looked worried - something that Kellin never liked to see. 

"I'm— looking for my friend—" Jaime choked out. The man pressed his crowbar down harder against Jaime's neck, cutting him off and making him gasp for air. 

"He's not coming back," he taunted. "He's ours now. More importantly, he's mine now. So you can fucking forget about him, okay?" Kellin whimpered loudly. 

"P—please," Kellin stuttered, catching the man's attention and making him take his eyes off a choking, squirming Jaime. "Don't kill him— we just want Vic—"

"I said," the man shouted, "fucking forget about Vic! He's MINE. So fucking," he snarled, pressing his crowbar harder against Jaime's throat, effectively cutting his airways off, "forget about him."

"Please don't kill him," Kellin whimpered, horrified by the prospect of Jaime dying. 

"And why shouldn't I? Give me ONE reason why I shouldn't kill him for trespassing and attempting to steal what's mine," the man offered. Kellin shook as the knife blade pressed harder into his skin, millimeters away from breaking skin and drawing blood.

"B—because, we're only trying to save Vic—"

The man turned his attention back to Jaime, done with what Kellin had to say. He raised the crowbar above his head, fully intending to crack Jaime's skull with it. 

"Wait!!"


	16. Chapter 16

A sickening crack split the air. Vic let out a horrified scream as he saw that Oli had lowered the crowbar. He knew right then that Jaime was dead. Kellin whimpered in horror and Vic collapsed. His best friend was dead. 

Oli turned his head to look back at Vic, worry in his eyes. As he stood up, Vic was able to see that the crowbar had gone into the ground just shy of Jaime's head. But still, Jaime was breathing heavily, blood pooling onto the ground where the crowbar had gashed his head. He groaned, dazed, as Oli got off of him, but kept a foot firmly planted on his chest. 

"Vic?" Oli asked, clearly worried. Vic was breathing heavily, horror still apparent in his brown eyes. 

"Please let them go," he choked out breathlessly. Oli cocked his head to the side. 

"Vic, we can't. We don't just let people go. We have a system that means we either kill intruders or keep them. And we can't keep these two - they have lives outside of the immediate, and they would be reported as missing."

"Better missing than dead in a tunnel," Vic snapped. His legs regained feeling, having lost them due to shock, and he leapt up and raced over to Jaime. He embraced his friend, pulling his head into his lap and putting his hand on the gash to stop the bleeding. 

Oli snapped his fingers and Poppy let Kellin go immediately. Kellin came rushing over to Jaime and Vic, and Jaime sat up as best he could, leaning heavily on Kellin. Kellin wrapped his arms around Jaime and kissed his head, staring up at Oli when he came to stand over the three. Vic swallowed hard. 

"Oli, they're my best friends. Please." 

"We can't risk being found, Vic."

"Please."

"Vic—"

"Please!" He begged, grabbing Oli's leg and clinging onto him tightly. Oli sighed heavily, reaching down to tousle Vic's hair. 

"Fuck," he said softly, shutting his eyes tight. He was facing a dilemma - he knew it was the right decision to kill the intruders, but the look on Vic's face was starting to convince him to abandon protocol in favor of letting the two live. He looked back at the two men, one bleeding and one desperately holding him, and felt a twinge of guilt. Fuck. 

"Oli?" Vic asked, looking up at him with big eyes. Oli looked down to see tears threatening to spill over Vic's cheeks. Fuck fuck fuck. He inhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. Shit. 

"Oliver," Poppy spoke, "do you want me to take them? I can take them," she offered. Oliver shook his head. 

"We can't take them."

"Please! Oli!" Vic nearly screamed, digging his fingers into his thigh. "You can't kill them, you can't!" Oli tightened his grip on his crowbar. "Please, you can't!" Vic's voice got louder and rougher until he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Oli took a step towards the pair but was stopped by Vic being surprisingly heavy. "PLEASE! Oli, please, I'll do whatever you want just please don't kill my friends, please please PLEASE don't kill them! Please!" He begged, his voice breaking at his last plea, sending tears streaming down his face. He launched himself back in front of Kellin and Jaime and started bawling. "If you kill them you have to kill me too," he choked out. Oli stopped dead in his tracks. 

"Vic. I'm sorry—"

"You have to kill me first!" Vic sobbed. 

Oli dropped his crowbar with a loud clang and sat down on his knees in front of the trio. Poppy came to stand behind him, knife still in hand. 

"Vic, I won't kill anybody. Just, please, come here," he offered, holding his arms out. Vic hesitated, but eventually crawled into Oli's arms, wrapping his own arms around Oli's neck and letting out heaving sobs. 

"You have to promise," Vic said firmly. "You have to promise me that you're not going to kill Jaime and Kellin."

"Vic," Oli sighed, knowing he was trapped. "I won't kill either of them. I promise."

Vic leaned back to look Oli in the eyes, a weak smile breaking across his face for a second. He leaned in to give Oli a shaky kiss. 

"Uh," Kellin started, "are we safe?" He was hesitant to ask, eyes still fixed on the knife Poppy held. Oli nodded. 

"Yes, you two are safe. But I expect you not to make any sudden moves or try to do anything, or I'll be forced to kill you." Oli explained. Vic grabbed his shoulders. 

"You promised," he warned shakily. Oli pressed his forehead against Vic's. 

"I know. I intend to keep my promise. But that doesn't extend to them attempting to hurt or kill anyone else. Okay? Is that fair?" Oli asked. Vic nodded. 

Oli stood up and Vic followed suit. Oli stepped gingerly towards Kellin and Jaime. Kellin flinched away and Jaime groaned, barely conscious due to the loss of blood. "Wh..."

"It's okay, Jaime, you're safe now," Vic eased as Oli extended his hand to Jaime. He hesitated before he took the extended hand, but clasped it regardless. Oli pulled him to his feet, but he promptly collapsed into Oli's arms. He grabbed the now unconscious Jaime and braced him with his shoulder, looping his arm around him. "Could one of you—" he began asking, but stopped when Kellin came over and braced Jaime's other side, pulling his arm over his shoulders and squeezing his hand. 

The group began walking towards the tunnel entrance that marked the end of contact with the outside world.


End file.
